Holy Crap, I'm Clark Kent's Mom!
by fieldagent85
Summary: Jonathan gets a surprise when he walks in on Martha while she is possessed by wannabe prom queen Dawn Stiles. Spoilers for "Spirit."


When Jonathan Kent entered his own house, the sounds he heard coming from the kitchen were immediately foreign to him. He paused in the doorway and considered the possibilities, but nothing he could have imagined seemed to fit. Slowly, cautiously, he walked through the house and into the kitchen. His eyes widened in an almost amused horror. He had seen his wife in many compromising positions over the last twenty-two years, but none quite measured up in comparison to this. Two empty cartons of ice cream were tossed haphazardly on the counter and the spoon once used for that ice cream was now being used as a faux microphone. Though clad in her usual tight jeans and form-fitting long-sleeved blouse, she was like an entirely different person, he thought, as she writhed and moved around the kitchen floor, completely entranced by whatever this ridiculous pop music was. Halfway through the song, she finally noticed him and quickly switched off the stereo.

"Oh," Martha said, grossly disappointed. "Hi."

Jonathan laughed and approached her, as if she had only experienced a temporary moment of rebellion and sweet release. "Hi." He leaned forward to kiss her, but she quickly jerked back, like a reflex. He squinted in confusion.

"You're Clark Kent's dad!"

Jonathan smirked and regarded her with a bit of skepticism before deciding to go along with it. "Yeah, and you're Clark Kent's mom. It's kind of been our thing for the last sixteen years."

"Yeah," Martha replied, as if to say, "duh."

"Sweetheart, if this is some sort of roleplay thing…well, I know we're new to this, but I hear it works a lot more efficiently if you pretend to be…someone else."

Martha scowled and stepped back. "Roleplay?! Ugh, no, you mean you still…do it?"

He laughed heartily, as though the question itself was preposterous. "What is this 'you' business? I like to think you're pretty involved in that whole process too, kid."

"I guess," she replied, eyeing him like a predator.

"Honey, is everything okay? You're acting a little…" He trailed off, walking past her toward the refrigerator.

"Of course everything's okay, I've just been a little bored, you know, sitting around this old farm all day and everything."

Jonathan frowned, taking offense, and dropped his jaw. Suddenly, Martha approached him slowly, almost seductively. "What's it like?"

"What's…what like?"

"Having sex. You know, all old and stuff. Can you still…like, do everything?" She asked, genuinely curious but cunning.

"Uh," Jonathan murmured, a bit dumbfounded. "Martha…"

"No, I mean, really. I always thought it would be weird and, like, totally gross after the age of thirty-five."

"You did, huh?" He responded, walking past her, observing her carefully. "Sweetheart, have you been out sniffing the meteor rocks?"

"God, Mr. Kent, you are so uptight," Martha said, rolling her eyes. "We're, like, married. You can totally talk to me."

"You want me to talk to you about our own sex life?"

Martha shrugged and attempted to hoist herself up onto the counter, but found her new lack of height prevented her from doing so and she landed right back on the ground. "Oh, wow. Welcome to Dwarfville, next stop: Verne Troyer."

"Excuse me?"

"What?" She looked up at him, startled. "Oh. Nothing. I'm just…shorter than I remember, that's all." Jonathan furrowed his eyebrows in confusion, but she continued. "Hey, you're pretty tall. What are you like, six-one?"

"Yeah…" He nodded.

"How tall am I?"

"You're about five-four on a good day."

"Uh huh. And this, you and me, married and all, it…works?" Martha questioned.

"Has for the past twenty-two years," Jonathan replied, easily. "Having second thoughts?"

Martha shrugged off the question and moved a little closer. "Does Clark know that you…that we still…you know…"

Jonathan chuckled and shook his head, thinking back. "Well, he and Lois sure got an eye full when they caught us in the shower last week."

"Ew!" Martha exclaimed, absolutely horrified. "God, that's disgusting, I would have just positively shriveled up and died." Then, after a moment, she asked, "Who's Lois?"

"Okay, Martha, are we done with this now?"

"Is Lois his girlfriend?" She inquired, scathingly. "She is, isn't she?"

"Martha, Lois and Clark are lucky if they can occupy the same room without attacking each other below the belt."

Martha merely stared back at him. "Below the belt? Is that some kind of sexual thing? Because, like, you don't need to torture me with the details, okay? I get it."

Jonathan sighed and under his breath said, "I can't believe I'm doing this." He put his hand on her shoulders. "Okay, honey, listen to me. I'm going to answer all of your questions and then you're going to snap out of this, all right?"

Martha pursed her lips and shrugged. "Whatevs."

"I'll take that as a yes. Okay. Yes, we still have sex. Yes, we can still do…everything and it is neither weird nor gross. Yes, Clark knows we still…do it. No, Lois is not his girlfriend, we like to think of Lois more as his sister. His sister that he…strongly dislikes in almost every imaginable circumstance. And no, below the belt isn't some kind of sexual thing. Are you satisfied now?"

She hesitated and looked around the room aimlessly, considering it. "Yeah, okay."

"Okay. You are going to be late for work, and I desperately need a shower," Jonathan said, leaning forward to plant a kiss on her forehead. "When you get back, I fully expect you to have…relocated your senses."

With that, he jogged up the stairs and out of sight. Martha frowned with confusion. "Work?" She rolled her eyes and reached for her faux microphone once more. "What is he on?"

"The Talon? Oh! Right, I work there. Mmm, no, I can drive myself. Laterz!"

Clark turned to Lois, eyes wide, and she smirked. "Laterz?"

"Yeah, I don't know," Clark muttered.

"Look, Clark, I know I've only been living here a little while but I feel confident in saying this little Valley Girl act of your mother's isn't exactly a habitual thing."

"No, Lois, my mom rocks out to Ashlee Simpson on a pretty regular basis," Clark deadpanned. Lois's wry sense of humor had clearly been rubbing off on him.

"Cute, Smallville."

"Is my dad here?" He questioned.

"Yeah, I passed him upstairs. Why?"

"Come on."

Upstairs, they found Jonathan in his master bathroom, shaving in front of the mirror.

"Hey, kids."

"Dad, have you seen Mom tonight?" Clark asked.

"Oh, no," Jonathan said with a sigh. "Is she still at it?"

"Is there something we don't know about, Mr. Kent?" Lois inquired. "Like, I don't know, a mid-life crisis or something. The Change."

"I don't know," he replied. "She's been acting…well, I don't even know how to describe it honestly."

"What did she say to you?" Clark asked.

"Well, she was calling me Mr. Kent for awhile there. First she wanted to know about our sex life, and how you felt about it, and then she didn't know her own height or who Lois was," Jonathan explained. "And when I told her about our little shower incident last week, she all but had a coronary and declared it was disgusting."

"Well, in her defense, Mr. Kent, it was pretty disgusting," Lois commented. "I think I speak for both of us when I say we could go for a little warning next time. Or at least lock the door. Common courtesy."

"How tall is Dawn Stiles?" Clark asked suddenly, turning to Lois.

"Who's Dawn Stiles?"

"She's got to be at least 5'11". Her parents got divorced when we were in like, elementary school, so she'd probably be interested in you and Mom. And she's obviously never met Lois."

"Care to share, Columbo?" Lois said, folding her arms across her chest.

"Let's go," Clark said, grabbing Lois's arm.

"Where are we going?"

"The Talon."


End file.
